Planes, Trains, Automobiles, and Everywhere Else
by lady-adonis
Summary: Arthur and Ariadne are at the beginning stages of their relationship, otherwise known as the overly affectionate phase, and Eames is getting really annoyed with their constant..."expression of love". Rated T for obvious reasons.
1. On the Desk

The first time they took their first step towards that direction of relationships, they were at work. It was a bad place and time to decide to be so passionate, but they hadn't logically decided anything. Their bodies were speaking for them. The occasional glance here and there, the blush and smile, the look away/look back. It went on and on, it never stopped. Arthur sat at his desk, trying to stay focused on something other than the beautiful woman only ten feet away from him. He hadn't even a reason as to why he stayed especially late that night. There probably was no reason. If there was, he didn't know.

He just knew that he wanted to stay with her. Maybe to see her forehead crease in frustration as she chewed at her pen. Maybe to see how well she was manufacturing the levels. But then there was the last reason mostly known as the real reason: he wanted her.

Across from the Point Man, Ariadne was wondering why exactly he _had _stayed, why he chose to play a game of solitaire instead of doing actual work. Or perhaps going to his apartment to savor in some red wine and relish in fantasies of his next vacation or whatever else Arthur did with Arthur time. But he was here, with her, peeking at her from behind his laptop, his eyes darker than usual. Those eyes.

Dear God, why did they have to be _those_ eyes piercing into hers?

Ariadne was a well rounded woman and was way past the whole intimidation by cute boy bit that she went through in her earlier years, but Arthur was the exception. He was not a cute boy. He was a handsome man. Well built, smart, capable, not to mention delishly good-looking. Even though, she tried her best to remain cool around him, she still felt those little flips inside after looking into those dark eyes. He knew that just by staring at her, he could make her weak at the knees. But he knew he could do that with every woman, so when he met her, she would not give him the satisfaction.

She chuckled to herself, gluing two cylinder objects together and adding it to the landscape. He was not going to get the best of her. She lifted her head and glanced at him once again, this time staring a little longer. Eames always gave Arthur a hard time about being a snore, but Ariadne would bet money that he was not boring in bed. When she said that he looked capable - well, the word had several meanings. He was obviously impressive with the opposite sex and he looked like he could show a woman a good time. Without being fully aware of it which was the even more appealing quality.

Arthur watched discreetly as Ariadne sauntered across her office space. There was something completely endearing in the way she walked. It was simple, to the naked eye there was nothing considerably "special" about it. Even he didn't see it at first but if you look closely, it's there. The way her legs sort of glide over the ground and her hips sway with her arms in perfect unison. It's as if she's trying to say that she's flying away and you can't catch her. It's fascinating. He never knew so much could be said by a person's walk. Actually, he did know. Wasn't it his job to know? He was the Point Man after all.

He stood slowly, taking careful steps toward her office. He leaned against her doorway, watching her chew her bottom lip as she stared at the maze. He smiled beginning to retreat but her voice stopped him.

"Is there something on your mind, Arthur?"

He paused and turned around, walking into her foyer with a sheepish grin. "Pardon?"

"You've been roaming around in and out of her, you're not doing any work-just playing solitaire-and you are kind of watching me like a hawk," her playful smile faded. "Did...did Cobb tell you to keep an eye on me or something?"

Arthur shook his head quickly. "No, it's not like that at all, I just..."

Ariadne looked at him expectantly, her eyes wide and waiting. Arthur looked down.

"If I tell you the truth, you have to promise you won't resent me."

Ariadne walked toward him, closing the space in between them so tight that Arthur could feel her warmth. She lifted her pinkie and he wordlessly wrapped his around hers.

"I'm kind of fascinated with you," he said in a low voice.

"Fascinated? With me?...Why would anyone be fascinated with me?"

Arthur shrugged. "It's only because you're fascinating. You're...electrifying...dazzling, even."

The young woman's eyes stayed on him for a long time, her lips pursed, keeping a smile from growing. "Arthur, when's the last time you got laid?"

Arthur laughed more than she had ever seen him do.

"Because," she continued. "If you're trying to compliment your way into my pants, it's not going to work. I've been down that road before." The last part she muttered.

"Don't you know me by now?" Arthur inquired, stepping closer. "I'm not trying to trick you, I swear. This whole thing is just getting to become too much for me to handle."

"What whole thing?"

"Jesus, is it not obvious?" Arthur sighed with a smile on his face as he pulled a chair up to her desk. "Why is it that pretty girls can never tell when a desperate, stupid guy is in love with them? Why is it so easy to hide from you but so difficult to hide from everyone else? Why are you the only one who's blind?"

Ariadne tried to appear as cavalier as possible. "Since when did I turn into the pretty girl?"

Arthur froze. "What? Did I say that?"

"Yeah, your 'them' turned into a 'you'. I'm the pretty girl?"

"No...no, you're the beautiful girl...the girl that everyone else knows how I feel about, but you don't. Everyone knows...except you. Why is that?"

Ariadne shrugged, still looking at her models. "Perhaps...it's because you're like a robot and you never show any emotion. Other than the smirk and chuckle or the look of frustration whenever Eames-"

"Please, don't say his name."

"Why not?"

"Because this announcement I'm making should be special...I don't even want the forger you love so much to ruin it."

"Should I sit down for this?"

Arthur stared at her, gazing at her impeccable features. Her nose, her lips, her eyes, and how beautiful she was. He then smiled to himself, not knowing where his sudden need to tell her came from. Why was she so complicated? Almost like the DaVinci Code.

_Those fucking lips_

Arthur looked up at her again, at her smooth, pink, and soft lips and he licked his own. How atrociously delightful. He didn't know what he was doing, how he looked exactly but he knew his mouth was hanging open and he was on the verge of drooling. His eyes trailed up to meet hers and he stood up, walking closer to her. Ariadne noticeably stiffened when he was so close to her, but she tried to maintain the calm demeanor she once had. He hesitantly lifted his hand and tucked a loose strand behind her ear. He gazed into her eyes.

"Ariadne," he whispered sending shivers up her spine. "May I please have your permission to give you a kiss?"

Ariadne swallowed hard and the words she wanted to say with confidence came out in a weak whisper. "What would I get in return?"

"You'd get to find out how you feel and if it's negative, well, I'm a man capable of unrequited love."

Ariadne opened her mouth to say something, but instead lunged forth and caught Arthur's lips into her own. There was no way to describe the feeling that came over both of them. Ariadne, happy to finally be in his arms and what he wanted. Arthur, relieved to know that what he felt was mutual. The both of them wrapped up in intense passion, never wanting to let the other go.

* * *

><p>"What about on the lawn chair?" Arthur suggested hopefully.<p>

Ariadne made a face. "Sounds uncomfortable, actually. How about the floor?"

"It's cold," Arthur ran his hand through his hair standing in the middle of the warehouse in his underwear.

Then, before he knew it, Ariadne was close to him, her hands discovering every single part of his body.

"Arthur," she whispered seductively.

His eyes were wide. "Yeah?"

Her eye flickered over to a desk in the corner where the least work was done. Arthur smiled upon following her gaze.

The next morning, Eames sat down at his desk feeling something had changed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Basically, I think the overly affectionate phase in couples is annoying and I couldn't help but think what it would be like in the A/A case and how annoyed Eames would get. Just an idea.**


	2. In the Bathroom

The first time Eames found them out, he was at the warehouse and he had been suspicious about the Point Man and the Architect's unusual behaviour. Their everyday glances, always innocuous and loving, were now filled with a certain spark as if they were sharing a secret. A secret that had undoubtedly broken that strong, seemingly impenetrable barrier between them. Now their smiles and glances had so much passion, so much fire and so much...so much...so much..._sex_. The only explanation was that they finally kissed and Arthur spilled his heart out to her. Eames didn't think the old stick in the mud would have the balls to take the young woman then and there.

Eames doodled on blank sheets of paper with no particular aim. He just doodled out of boredom. The hands on the clock could not move fast enough for the frustrated forger. He looked up at the time every thirty seconds, hoping it would magically skip ahead two hours. Every time he looked back down disappointed, he looked up from his desk to see if anyone was as bored as he was. But everytime, there was nothing other than smiles, blushing, and knowing glances. It was disgusting. Arthur, old Arthur, the wet blanket was actually smiling. Smiling a trie, stupid smile with his teeth and dimples, the whole nine yards! His dark brown eyes possessed a certain fire that seemed to get hotter each time he looked at the architect. Eames almost wanted to throw up. He had wanted the two to be together for a while, ever since they met, but Arthur was just too stubborn to do anything about it. The forger just assumed he had given up, that he didn't want happiness, that he didn't want "the righteous, perpetual shagging Ariadne could offer" as Eames put. Arthur's oonly response to that comment was a rolling of the eyes and a swift retreat from the room. Ariadne, on the other hand, could manage without Arthur. She was pretty, smart, and could easily make any man fall in love with her. Hell, if it weren't for the unspoken hold Arthur had on her, Eames would have taken her for himself. It was Arthur who really needed her. He needed someone exciting in his life or he would become even more unbearable. Sounds ridiculous but anythng was possible.

Ariadne looked away from Arthur finally and continued on with her work. She scribbled on a sheet of paper before sucking in a deep breah. She analyzed her finger and groaned.

"Papercut," she muttered, standing up. "I'll be right back."

Her eyes lingered on Arthur before she walked to the back. Arthur smiled once again. A few minutes past, the wretched clock keeping Eames painfully aware of it. Arthur stood up, smoothing out his shirt. He looked at Eames and chuckled.

"I'm going to, uh, check out these models," he said nervously before walking away.

Maybe Eames didn't expect that much. Maybe he didn't think that Arthur and Ariadne were actually meeting up in the bathroom to get one in. But somewhere, deep down, he knew what they were doing. He just didn't believe Arthur had the nerve. So, half an hour later, he realized that he'd lent his rapport files to Arthur, he didn't expect much. He waclked to Ariadne's modeling room because there was no way he was going to risk rifling through Arthur's desk again. Last time, he got his head chewed off. As he neared the room, he heard a noise coming from the bathroom. A grunt.

Curious, he walked closer to the door stupidly thinking something was wrong with Ariadne. He lifted his hand to know but stopped when he heard voices.

"Stop."

"Stop? What's wrong?"

Arthur.

"What if Eames finds out?" Ariadne

"He won't," Arthur murmured. "He's an idiot."

Eames frowned. _Slap._

"Stop picking on Eames, he's a good guy."

Eames smiled.

"Okay. Okay, I'll stop. He's not an idiot but he's not going to find out, I promise. We're not even being obvious. Aside from the fact that I can't stop staring at you-"

"Shut up and kiss me," Ariadne had a smile in her voice.

All that was heard after that was smooching sounds and heavy breathing. The forger could not believe his ears.

"Wait, wait, wait," Arthur was the one who pulled away. "We can't start again, I might not stop."

There was a smile in his voice while he spoke almost breathlessly. The two laughed joyously.

Suddenly Ariadne stopped laugh. "Oh my God, what time is it?"

"4:17."

"We were in here for how long?"

"About half an hour."

"Half an hour?" She exclaimed. "Arthur, that's not a quickie!"

Arthur laughed while Ariadne hit him.

"What if he gets suspicious?"

"He...Fine, I'll go check what he's doing. You should leave and I'll ask him if he's seen you. He'll probably think you slipped out and I just got distracted."

Eames didn't wait any longer. He ran quickly down the corridor and to his desk, trying to pretend everything was normal."

A few minutes later, Arthur came out, casually adjusting his tie. He glanced at Eames.

"The landscape was great. It's really...great. Realistic."

Eames held back a smile as he hummed in response. "That good, eh?"

Arthur smiled wide. "Amazing."

"Orgasmic even," Eames mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Eames smiled cheerfully.

The forger watched the point man move to his own desk and lower himself into the seat. He finally had something to entertain himself with.


	3. On the Train

** a/n: Thank you for all of the positive reviews. They really mean a lot**

Eames learned the fourth time that Arthur was a talker. He liked to talk during sex and said the most peculiar, unhinged, and dorky things when he and Ariadne were "busy". Ariadne, on the other hand, was relatively quiet aside from her moans and occasional calling out of Arthur's name. She Eames could tolerate. In fact, if he were the one with her right now, he would encourage his name being called. But Arthur. Oh, even if Eames were gay and Arthur was the last man on earth, he would not go near him. It wasn't so much the things he said as it was the tone of his voice. Menacing, taunting, like he was punishing you. Underneath all of that pristine and well-kept exterior was a sexual deviant, a beast. After listening to the things he said, Eames didn't find it hard to imagine Arthur as a man who enjoyed bondage or parasitism role-playing.

When he found out this time, they had just completed a successful extraction of which took place on a train. After packing up the PASIV and paying their spotter, Eames, Cobb, Yusuf, Arthur and Ariadne went their separate ways or at least that's what they were supposed to do. Eames isolated himself in a cabin as did the others. There was supposed to be a respectful distance between the criminals, but the forger got stuck with the worst cabin ever-the one next to the lovebirds.

Eames stepped inside his cabin, quickly shutting the sliding door behind him. He exhaled and smiled happily as he made himself comfortable against the leather sofa. The extraction was tricky at first because the source of information was puzzling, but in the end they succeeded. As usual. Eames was beginning to believe that they were the best team out there. What did they have? A creative and imaginative architect, an overly meticulous point man (in some cases, a good thing), a versatile forger, sometimes a genius chemist, and the most skilled extractor in the world. Eames would never want to work for any other team as long as he lived. He thought about his share for this job as he lit his Cuban cigar to celebrate.

Thud!

Eames flinched, alarmed at the sound coming from the other side of the wall. He looked around almost waiting for it to sound again before slowly relaxing into his seat.

Thud!

Eames' cigar fell out of his mouth and onto his lap.

"Shit!" He picked up the cigar and brushed the ashes off his lap. He sighed, this time out of frustration.

"Bloody hell," he muttered before burning his cigar out and leaving his cabin. He was about to knock but then he remembered who this cabin belonged to. With perfect timing, Arthur chuckled from the other side.

"At it again?" Eames grunted. "Are you serious?"

He had to admit that the dark side of him liked invading Arthur's privacy and listening in. But it could get annoying at times. Ariadne moaned and Eames rolled his eyes, slipping back into his cabin. He looked around and pressed his ear to the wall, smiling evilly. Arthur's voice was heavier than usual, husky and breathless.

"I can't believe you," he muttered. "Why would you do that to me? On a job no less?"

Eames perked his ears.

"What you're wearing...cruel." There's a smile in his voice.

And Eames thought back to earlier. Ariadne arrived to the job with her regular jeans and t-shirt, this time sporting a cardigan along with it. A black crocheted hat was over her head and her wavy hair flowed down like always. Conservative enough...but then he remembered.

The first level down was a ballroom. One of those elegant parties that rich parents put together for charity. The theme was black and white so everyone else was wearing tuxedos. Of course, Ariadne wasn't. She had one a long, black and strapless dress that hugged her curves. Eames would admit that when he first saw her, he couldn't stop staring but then he realized that Arthur was gaping at her. But he quickly regained his composure upon remembering where they were. The second level down was a beach and the little architect was wearing a bikini as she distracted the mark while Cobb found the information.

She might have been young and sometimes innocent, but she was a vixen. And it wasn't too big of a leap to suggest that Arthur couldn't take it. He was a cracking, ticking time bomb.

"McCarthy didn't seem to mind," Ariadne murmured. McCarthy was the mark.

"You will pay for that," Arthur said dauntingly. "I can assure you."

"What are you going to do, punish me?"

They stared into each others eyes intensely and a slow smile spread across Arthur's lips.

Ten minutes later, Eames was listening to Ariadne make high pitched noises whilst their bodies banged against the wall. Arthur moaned and sighed himself. Eames had to stop listening now, ignoring the two. It wasn't until he heard a little of what Arthur was saying that he started listening again.

"You think you can walk around in outfits like that and not get attention?"

Ariadne didn't respond, but Eames grunted in disgust.

"So sinister of you...making me suffer like that."

* * *

><p>In the other cabin, Arthur had Ariadne pinned against the wall, her slender legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He was kissing her neck and shoulder passionately. Six months ago, Arthur could not imagine he'd be doing what he's doing now. He was new to all of this, all of the passion. He wondered if this was what having a girlfriend meant...that you had sex in random places. Then he begin to wonder where else they would do it...maybe a movie theater...No, he'd have to keep her from <em>ever <em>doing that.

He found it rather difficult to focus on his thoughts when her nails were digging into his back. He smirked.

"I'll be damned if you wear another outfit like that again."

Ariadne breather out, a sound combined with a sigh and a moan. "Arthur, stop talking."

"Okay."

When they finished, Arthur gazed blankly into Ariadne's eyes, the both of them breathing heavily. And there, against the wall, sweating, and breathless, they both felt complete. There was something that they wanted to say, something that needed to be said, but before either got a chance, Arthur caught a glimpse of his watch.

"Shit," he carefully moved away, removing Ariadne's legs.

"What?" Ariadne asked.

"Our stop is in five minutes."

Ariadne's eyes widened. "Shit!"

Arthur smiled, quickly pulling on his underwear and pants whilst watching Ariadne do the same. Arthur was fastening the buttons on his dress shirt when Ariadne turned to him.

"Arthur?" She looked left and right. "Where is my bra?"

Arthur looked at his girlfriend with wide eyes then at the floor and back up at her. "Um..."

"Arthur!" Ariadne used her shirt as a weapon and hit him with it and he laughed because her attempts to hurt him were just too hilarious. He lifted his hands in defense.

"Come on, we don't have time for this. Just put the shirt on."

Ariadne smirked. "Who's going to notice, right?"

She quickly pulled the shirt over her head and grabbed her cardigan and black hat. Arthur took hold of her hand.

"Okay, let's go."

A few hours later, the trains maintenance man found a black lacy bra in the flower vase.


	4. On the Plane

**A/N: Warning. This chapter is really just tossed together**

"Okay, so the rule of thumb here is to extract key information without alarming the mark."

"And what happens if you alarm the mark?"

"Seems a good chance the dream will collapse."

"Wait. How is that possible? How can the dream collapse just because the mark is startled? I thought the projections would...Anyway, isn't the sedative strong enough to keep him under?"

Arthur looked down at her and chuckled. She frowned. "What?"

"I forgot that...Listen, we don't always use such heavy sedatives for jobs. Inception was new and we needed heavier doses for depth reasons. But usually, a sedative is light enough in a dream that you can actually kill yourself and wake up. Remember we talked about it?"

"Right."

"Do you think we've covered the basics well enough?"

Ariadne eyes wandered to space and she hummed. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess we did."

Arthur closed his leather bound notebook and put it to the side.

"Good. Now we can..stop talking about work."

The tone of his voice, frustrated and exasperated, made Ariadne look back at him curiously. Taking one look at his tired eyes and pursed lips, Ariadne knew what question was on her mind.

"Arthur," she murmured quietly, desperately wanting to prolong her hand and caress his cheek. The fact that they were on the job prohibited them from doing son. He turned his face toward her and she pouted, wanting to comfort him more.

"Yes?"

"Do you hate your job?" She asked softly and Arthur's expression scoured.

"No, what makes you think that?"

Ariadne decided to forget and gently brushed her fingertips along his chin. "Honey, I'll ask you again. Do you hate your job?"

Arthur smiled at her ability to read him so easily. "Sometimes. Sometimes, I do. But it's too amazing for me to not love it, either."

"What do you love about it?"

Arthur shrugged. "Everything, I guess. The surrealness of it. The ability to be able to do any and everything."

"And what do you hate about it?"

"The dangers it expels. The perfection demanded from me. The fact that I can't dream anymore..." Arthur looked up to find Ariadne's expression which read something like surprise and shock. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to complain, I love my job. We just have a love/hate relationship."

This made her giggle. "Like you and Eames."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Uh, no, darling, that's a hate/hate relationship."

Ariadne laughed more, her nose crinkling. "I love you, Arthur."

"I love you more," Arthur almost leaned into kiss her but stopped himself right on time, resting back into his seat. The two wrapped their hands together and sighed contently. A long moment of silence passed before...

"Arthur?"

The point man hummed and Ariadne turned to him with serious eyes. "Have you ever made love on a plane?"

Arthur's eyes widened exponentially.

"No," Arthur shook his head. "No. No way in hell, Ariadne."

"What?" Ariadne smiled. "Why not? Arthur, please?"

"No, no, no, no. We are working."

"Not yet, we haven't even landed yet."

"It's not professional."

"Please?" Ariadne's puppy dog eyes made him freeze like a deer in the headlights. "Please? We can just try..."

Arthur heaved a sigh and bit his lip. "You go to the bathroom first. I'll be there in five minutes."

Ariadne smiled and practically jumped out of her seat and sprinted down the aisle. Arthur smiled. He wouldn't lie, when they first boarded the plane, he thought about it. Who wouldn't? It sounded like fun. Goodness, who was he? The old Arthur never did any of this. The old Arthur was careful. The old Arthur was...boring. He would never admit it, but Eames was probably right. Ariadne was such a free spirit, such a nice person, and so spontaneous. It changed him. She changed him. For the better. He stood up and walked down the aisle slowly, careful not to arise suspicion. Getting closer to the door, he knocked in a rhythm that he knew would be familiar.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

_Knock. Knock._

_Knock._

She opened the door and pulled him in by his collar. Arthur went in to kiss her once the door was closed but she put her hand up in protest, gently pushing him away.

"Something wrong?"

"No, it's just...Well, you know we have to be really quiet, right?"

"Of course I know, I'm always careful." He leaned in.

She put her hands up once again. "Arthur, seriously, we have to be really quiet. That means you're going to have to shut the fuck up."

"I'm offended. I don't talk that much."

"Are you kidding? You might as well be Larry King."

"Well, what about you?" Arthur crossed his arms. "You think you can contain climatic moans?"

Ariadne raised an eyebrow. "You obviously don't know what a fake orgasm sounds like."

Arthur's face fell and Ariadne grinned when his arms fell down to his side. He leaned closer. "What did you just say to me?"

"You heard me."

* * *

><p>Eames rolled his eyes as Arthur walked down the aisle toward the bathroom. He didn't even want to hear it this time. Those two had some nerve...or maybe just an overwhelming sensation of hormones. Whatever it was, Eames was getting frustrated. Arthur was violating nice, little Ari. There had to be some catch...Cobb cleared his throat and pulled Eames from his thoughts. He turned to him, slightly mechanically.<p>

"I'm going to go and talk to Arthur," Cobb started rising from his seat.

Eames pulled him down quickly. "Why?"

"I need to talk to him," Cobb said questioningly.

The forger was at a loss for words and Cobb took the opportunity to stand up. Eames snapped out of his trance and pulled him back down.

"You can't go back there," Eames said urgently.

"And why not?"

"Um," Eames stammered.

He was caught between a rock and a hard place. He could either let Cobb walk back there and find out about the forbidden relationship in the work space. And let Ariadne hate him forever or...or he could stop him, let the two lovebirds have their fun, and still keep Ariadne as a good friend. Arthur could suck it, but Ari does not deserve to be humiliated ever...Not by anyone.

So, it was her that he would do this for. Eames looked at Cobb with an expression he prayed resembled pitiful ness.

"Why do you always talk to Arthur?" Eames asked with a false sense of sorrow. "Why does everyone take Arthur seriously? No one even likes me."

Cobb stared at Eames, clearly shocked by his display of emotions. "It's Arthur this and Arthur that, what about me?"

Then it was time for the bug guns. Eames thought back to the first time he saw _The Lion King _and slowly, but surely, a few tears glided down his face.

"Oh, dear God," Cobb muttered.

Eames' voice was now hoarse. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you to see me so unhinged."

"It's alright, Eames. Just stop crying. People are starting to stare."

Eames heaved. "Okay. But will you just tell me what you wanted to tell Arthur? It'd make me feel a lot better."

Cobb shrugged. "I was just that going to tell him that he was doing-I mean, you were doing an excellent job."

Eames shuddered. "Okay. Thank you."

* * *

><p>Ariadne whimpered, pursing his lips, desperately trying to quiet her moans.<p>

"Arthur," she breathed out heavily, straddling his waist. "I told you we had to be quiet."

Arthur huffed. "So? I'm being as quiet as I possibly can."

Ariadne attempted to protest, but instead of words, a yelp slipped past her lips. "Quiet means you have to slow down so I won't scream."

"So, you weren't faking those orgasms?"

"Of course, I wasn't!"

"Can't you just suppress it like I can?"

"Obviously not."

"Are we arguing?"

"I think we are."

"We never argue," Arthur said. "Especially not during sex."

"Well, that's because you're not being quiet," Ariadne hissed.

"I'm not being quiet?" I'm not being quiet? Excuse me, but you were the one complaining about not being able to shut your lady sex noises. And I-"

"Arthur, shut the hell up."

A few minutes later, Ariadne had stepped out of the bathroom looking as pressed as ever. She sauntered down the aisle and sat down. Eames shot her a knowing look and brushed two fingers against the other.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk."

Arthur came out of the bathroom exactly ten minutes later, when he sat down, Ariadne gave him a sheet of paper.

"Eames," she said.

Arthur unfolded the sheet and in big red letters was:

_YOU OWE ME!_


	5. In the Car

The day was a particularly busy one and the entire team had been pacing inside the walls of the desolate warehouse everytime there was free time to think. The quest was becoming more difficult, more profound with each discovery they made about the mark and as the layers unfolded, so did their sanity.

Yusuf was idly watching his serums developing, not even bothering to take the proper precautions or encase the proper procedures. He failed to check temperatures or measure volume, wanting for the day to simply be over but also wanting to be out of the job he'd signed up for.

Cobb, according to Arthur, was having a difficult time discerning reality from fiction and often faded in and out of consciousness without ever really losing it. But today, Eames noticed, Cobb had been the only one amongst them that had an air of tranquility about him, an air of calm in all of the calamity.

It had been unnerving to say the least, for Eames, who was sneaking sips of the whiskey that he kept in his desk drawer, occasionally entertaining himself with Arthur's little black notebook (which had been filled with very detailed, very kinky sexual fantasies). Some of them were downright intriguing while others fell short of sexual appeal, those were the ones that Eames placed in the category of 'Solely Ariadne'.

Ariadne had been pulling her hair out practically. Eames had never seen the young woman so stressed and it worried him. Her first time going into dream sharing and she's handed the improbable task of inception, her designs being vital to the overall success of the job. She tried to focus on the layouts but everyone who was paying attention could tell that she was consumed by other thoughts.

Arthur was nervous standing in the far corner, squeezing the life out of what Eames deducted must have been his totem. His jaw was clenched tightly and his lips were pursed into a thin line. Cobb had told them that there was a change of plans and Ariadne would be going into the dream. The waves coming off of Arthur had told Eames that he could just about murder Cobb for that much time spent staring angry holes into the concrete flooring, Arthur leaned off the wall and walked straight into Ariadne's not-so-private office where he took a look around before taking hold of her hand.

She had stopped her sketching and she turned to him, offering a gentle yet very forced smile. There were no words exchanged from what Eames could tell but they were doing just fine communicating without them. Ariadne reached up to roll her fingers through Arthur's hair and he let her do it, lowering his head even, eyes cast down on the floor once again. This time his gaze wasn't so much one of anger as it was of defeat. He couldn't change her mind. She would be coming in with let her hand down and he lifted his head. She offered a smile, more sincere and genuine, before walking out of the office, out of the warehouse, and into the cold morning.

Eames watched as she went by, avoiding eyes and walking with a purpose before turning his head back to Arthur who lingered in the office for a few moments before gliding out casually. Eames rolled his eyes and scoffed. He hadn't understood how it was possible for Arthur to be such a hard ass and so stressed all the time if he was having sex more often than the average person. He was convinced that there was a chemical and/or biological imbalance in the point's brain.

* * *

><p>Later when Eames was just about dying for a cigarette, he swiped his car keys from his desk and went outside. His car, he noticed, was covered with thin layers of ice from the weather so the fogging on the windows was to be expected. When he opened the door, the overwhelming and thick scent of sex hit his face.<p>

_What the…__?_

His eyes rose back to the car where, in the backseat, the Point Man had his bare back to Eames, protectively covering the Architect's nudity. Eames felt himself boiling with anger.

"In my car?" He inquired calmly despite the thickness in his throat and his blurry vision all indicating he was stark raving mad. "In _my _car?"

Ariadne bit her lips and went to run her hand through her hair which was all over the place. "It was unlocked and Arthur couldn't find his keys." Her breathless and embarrassed answer replaced his anger with a smug sense of superiority.

"Of course it was Arthur's idea," Eames said. "I should have known that the only one to show me such an inordinate disrespect would be-"

"Can we drop it?" Arthur hissed, interrupting Eames' speech about responsibility.

"Arthur I don't know if you understand how I feel about my car but I can tell you that when I purchased it, the thought of you and Ariadne using it for a shag wasn't quite the picture I had in mind."

"I'll buy you a new one," Arthur offered. "But please close the door, it's freezing."

"Is it? In that case," Eames leaned over and opened the other door and the temperature dropped completely. "I like a nice breeze."Arthur shivers. Ariadne blushes. Eames smirks.

"I'm the only one who knows what's going on between you two and I've known for a while. Now I'm willing to keep it for you but you'll have to stop having sex near me or in or on my things. Not on my desk, not in my car, not anywhere in vicinity to me. Or I'll become the dirty rat that you, Arthur, think me to be and I'll definitely take pleasure in telling Cobb. Oh how he'll explode," Eames said bemused. But he knew he would never rat them out and especially not to Cobb who was so obsessed with the job. He just needed some peace of mind.

"And I will take you up on that offer, I really didn't want to spend my Bora Bora finances on another car so it's perfect. I'll like a 1967 Chevy Impala. Red. With black stripes on the front if you can supply that. Of course, you'll have to have it imported and I know that's extra money but it seems like you're willing to pay it, yes?"

Arthur didn't look up, only nodded in response, every limb and bone quivering in the cold.

"Okay," Eames closed the door. "But do clean this one up, love. Do whatever you want with it but at least have the decency to clean it up."

He stepped away only to pop his head back into the car. "Ariadne, did you know that Arthur wants you to dress up in the infamous Princess Leia bikini and spank him while telling him he's been a bad boy?"

He shut the door.


End file.
